The Now
by Hannanball13
Summary: The new addition is a handful. Marcus John Hart, Bryan's biological son, born on Brock and Reba's second wedding day is all but an easy baby. But, he is loved by this newly adjusting, unorthodox bunch. Barbra Jean is remarried, happy- the family is about to get some more news. Perhaps their clan will be growing? Continuation of "What Now?" New Reader friendly!
1. Chapter 1

"Mom, you okay?" Cheyenne Montgomery closed the door to her parent's home quietly and quickly while searching for her father. "Where's Dad?" She asked, noticing Brock Hart was nowhere to be found.

"Your father is upstairs with your littlest brother." Reba gesticulated toward the steps, yawning as she stretched her legs and rested her socked feet on the end table- a taboo in the Hart household.

It had been one month; the longest four weeks of Reba's life. The red head had forgotten the total and absolute need she had for sleep. It had been so long since Jake (now one of the middle kids of the family) had needed feeding in the wee hours of the night. Barbra Jean had mentioned just yesterday it may have something to do with her age, which Reba politely ignored by throwing an empty baby bottle at her head.

"You look beat." The young blonde chuckled, setting down her purse on the armchair. "Mark still isn't sleeping?" She settled onto the cushion beside her mother, looking her over in worried wonder.

The woman on the couch was silent for a moment, seeming to contemplate the question as if it were difficult to answer.

"Do you remember when Van said his head felt like a _snow globe_?" Reba finally responded slowly, pulling her robe tighter and glancing over at her oldest daughter who seemed to be in mid-thought.

It was a few seconds later before she responded. "I think so."

"Remember how we just laughed? Well, I don't think it's funny anymore, Cheyenne, cause' my head is filled with those _not sleeping flakes_ he was going on about." She sighed, cringing as the shrill cries of her son filled her tired ear canals and racked her sleep deprived noggin.

"Oh, Mom…" Cheyenne laughed. "Let me take care of Mark for a little while, alright?" She rubbed her mother's arm and turned to go upstairs.

"Honey, please let your father try for a bit. He's been all insecure about his standing in Marcus' life, especially with Bryan creeping about lately." That statement seemed to tire the woman out a little more, she shook her head. "But I bet even _he _couldn't calm that baby down!" Reba raised her voice in frustration.

"I didn't know Bryan was causing trouble. Do you want me to get Van to take care of him?" Cheyenne questioned in concern.

"No- no. You know how that would turn out. We don't need a repeat of that post-wedding disaster party." Reba rolled her eyes.

They had taken to calling it that. The 'Post-Wedding Disaster Party'- which had included a rumble between her son-in-law and her ex-boyfriend in the Church lobby as she labored through the middle stages of contractions. The only two, good things that had come out of that day were Brock and Reba's marriage license, and Marcus John Hart himself. He was a seemingly happy little boy by day, but as soon as the sun set, the screaming began and the sleeplessness continued.

She sat up, lifting her feet from the table and sticking them on the cold, hard-wood floor.

"Fine." Her daughter huffed. "Have you heard from Barb—

Both women turned around as the front door swung open. The tall, bustier blonde stood in the doorway wearing a short, black dress. Henry pulled from her hand and ran in to escape her clutch once he caught sight of one of Jake's old toys on the ground from when Elizabeth last came over to play.

"Barbra Jean, what are you doing here?" Reba wondered sinking into the couch in utter exhaustion as Henry made airplane noises with his mouth.

"It's date night, ladies. Henry always stays with y'all on date night." She smiled, glancing in her son's direction as he let out a loud 'crash' noise.

"I thought the whole_ date_ thing stopped after you _married _the man." Reba replied sarcastically, in no mood to keep an eye on the hyper, little boy.

"Not with _my _man." Barbra Jean let out a playful growl, leaving the door ajar behind her and dropping Henry's overnight bag to the floor near everyone's shoes.

Barbra Jean met a man shortly after Reba gave birth to Marcus. Carter Samuel Riddick- he was a doctor, better than a second-hand therapist, he was a surgeon- a heart surgeon as it turned out. Brock introduced them a while back even before their whole affair, he knew him from pre-med and they shared a dorm for a very short while. So short, Brock had forgotten about him completely until he showed up at his office years ago. BJ was still settling in as his dental hygienist, when his and Reba's first marriage was still going strong. They had been a little smitten for a while, but it wasn't until he showed up at the second wedding that the two really had hit it off.

They eloped. BJ was sure of it this time and explained to Reba whenever the opportunity arose that she didn't want a big ruckus the next go- around, even though Reba's wedding had been… _eventful, _she liked to put it. She assured them that, because they decided this on their own- as a couple- the two had their minds made up. They were in love, and they were the epitome of a Nicholas Spark's book, minus the heart-breaking, gut-wrenching sorrows in the plot. And most of all, they were happy. And to BJ and Carter, that's all that mattered.

"He's waiting at the restaurant!" She grinned even wider. "I'll pick Henry up tomorrow morning at eight sharp. " She 'clicked' over to her son and gave him a smooch on the top of his head. "I love you, baby. I'll see you tomorrow!" And she waved to the group and stepped out of the house, leaving a wake of strong perfume as the door latched shut.

"At least she got her happy ending." Cheyenne stated. "I wish Van and I had 'date night'."

"I would give anything for just a _good _night, honey." Reba groaned, patting her daughter on the thigh as she got to her feet. "Henry?" She called.

"Yeah, Aunt Reba?"

"Did your momma get you dinner?"

"Nah." He answered sweetly.

"Come on, then. Cheyenne will make you a sandwich!" She yawned, nodding in her daughter's direction.

"I will?"

"Yeah, you will._ I'm_ going to check on your father." The red head responded.

As Reba climbed the steps, she nearly shook with exhaustion. Cheyenne took Henry's hand to the kitchen and her mother could hear the blonde shuffling about, opening and closing cabinets- a lot of movement for a sandwich, but Reba could only shrug it off. She couldn't imagine Van did most of the cooking, but she could have been wrong.

She braced herself before entering the nursery, preparing to subject her ear drums to the screeching of the little boy in her husband's arms. "Shhhhhh….." Reba hushed. Once she approached, she gingerly ran her fingertips across the thin, soft hair on her son's tiny head. "It's time to rest Marcus…"

"He_ won't_ rest, Reba. It's like he's broken!" Brock replied emphatically. "I don't remember any of our kids doing this!" His face twisted into an expression of helplessness. "I've changed him, burped him, I've fed him… Reba I've rocked him! What could he want?" The man was upset, and overtired and Reba was the same. He was wearing an old, grey t-shirt, wrinkled with over-wear and under-washing. His pajama pants were ripped and stained with coffee and his slippers were worn and discolored. Brock's hair hadn't been brushed since yesterday, but Reba couldn't say much because hers was tied up in a pony-tail, dangling limply and raggedly down her back and off her neck.

"Brock, lemme see him!" She shouted over Marcus' yells, outstretching her arms toward the enervated man- he had no choice but to hand her the kid in surrender. She held the child in her arms, supporting his head so she could stroke his soft, light colored strands.

Reba began to hum a tune, smoothly and gently, swaying in a rhythm lethal to a little bundle as cranky as the little boy in her crook. The screams became softer- now he only hiccupped, seemingly content with the easy motion and enchanting ballad escaping from his mother's throat. His face was no longer rosy with the effort of fussing, but the content, magical pink every baby should be snuggled into the bosom of their momma. As if it had been forever since the last time his parents heard the mellow stillness that ensued in the night that came along with a sleeping child, they exhaled in unison.

"That's a beautiful sound." Brock sighed, running his fingers through his untamable mop.

"I'm gonna put him down and then we're gonna sleep." Reba said in disbelief. "You grab the baby monitor, I'll meet you in the bedroom." She whispered from the corner of her mouth. "Now, Brock!" She ordered the man.

He grabbed the plastic monitor and clicked it 'on', giving his wife a peck on the cheek he scrambled from the nursery. Reba continued to hum, making her way toward Marcus' bassinet. "I love you, little fella." She murmured, laying him on his back, swaddled in his green and yellow quilt which her mother had made and presented to Reba just a week ago.

She stepped back calmly, her heart still panging at the thought of leaving him by his lonesome even as the feelings of tiredness at away at her. Reba closed the door slowly so the hinges would squeak and coax the baby awake. Then, she avoided the creaking floor board and found her feet padding in record time two doors down. Her bed beckoned, freshly sheeted and topped with new, fluffy pillows. What a condescending gift they had received after their nuptials. Their friends whom had purchased such a prize were probably chuckling right about now… No, they were sleeping, Reba thought.

Brock was sprawled atop the covers, his eyes fluttering closed. She crawled to his side, laying her head on his chest. Her eyes closed and the feelings of sleep washed like a warm wave through her aching, deprived system. Reba's mind was at rest, knowing Kyra was off, living in her new dorm down at the state university for criminal justice, Van was just down the street taking care of her grandkids, Jake was two houses down at his friends place for the night, Cheyenne was downstairs keeping busy with Henry, aware he needed to be to bed in an hour and Barbra Jean was with Carter.

And Marcus was asleep…. Or at least for those few moments before the jarring, hollering rang out over the baby monitor…

Reba's eyes peeled open. _What Now?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Second Chapter—gaps between sorry. Hope you enjoy, jumping right into drama!**

"Van!?" Reba yelled from the kitchen. "Is that you?"

"Nope, it's me jellybean." BJ sang from the living room, "Listen, Red. I have some news." Her tone was light and short, obviously not too urgent.

"Not right now, Barbra Jean." Reba halted her with her hand. "Van will be over soon, Cheyenne hasn't been feeling well and he wants to talk to me about something!" She wiped the counter with a damp cloth. "God, I hope everything's okay!" She groaned. "I don't think I can deal with any really big news, right now." She scrubbed harder at a cabinet. "I think it might just send me right over the edge!" The woman giggled nervously and made a gesture that depicted her falling off a cliff with sound effects to match.

BJ frowned. "Oh. Well, umm, everything all right?" The blonde asked, seeming to handle holding back her own news for her friend to let off her anxious steam.

"Everything is just peachy. And I'm serious!" She assured, throwing the towel into the empty sink. "Marcus finally understands that the nighttime is for sleeping, Kyra's been visiting every weekend, Jake made honor roll! And Bryan's been… quiet." She sat on the stool beside the big blonde. "I just don't want nothin' goin' wrong. Is that so horrible of me?"

"Of course not, Reebs!" She smiled, rubbing her arm. "It's nice when things are…right."

"She's right, honey. It's not selfish of you to want everything to stay good." Brock entered, holding Mark, patting his back, the burp cloth slung over his shoulder, ready for if he were to do what he always did- spit up down his Daddy's back. "A month of bliss, who wouldn't want it to keep up?" He smiled.

"I just feel like it's not going to be _good _news, Brock!" She huffed, smacking the counter with her fist. "I wish he would hurry up and get here!"

"He'll get here when he gets here. Just relax." He soothed, pecking her on the forehead.

"Yeah, Reba. I'm sure everything is just okie dokie!" BJ smiled.

The red head was quiet for a little bit, her brow furrowed as she wrung her hands in her lap. "You're probably right." She finally admitted. "I don't know why I'm getting myself all worked up. Now, what did you want to tell me?" Reba deflected, looking up at the tall lady.

But, Barbra Jean just shook her head. "It can wait." She whispered, turning to watch Van come through the back door.

"Hey, Mrs. H, can I talk with you?" He asked, ignoring the others in the room, his expression etched in worry, slightly pouting.

"Of course, Van! What is it you wanna talk about?" Reba questioned shakily.

He shifted uncomfortably, shoving his hands into his suit pockets. Van seemed to be coming straight from work, his tie slightly undone, his hair still gelled and slicked back. "Actually, I was hoping I could talk to you alone?" His eyebrows rose in innocent wonder.

"Y-yeah. Absolutely, Van." Reba stuttered, giving Brock a confused glance and then looking to BJ as if she knew what he could possibly want.

"Well, then I better be going." Barbra Jean said. "Brock, could you walk me to my car?"

"Oh, BJ, I have the baby—

She elbowed him in his side. "Walk. Me. To. My. Car!"

"Okay, I'll be back in a bit, gonna walk Barbra Jean to her car!" Brock forced a grin and then followed his ex-wife out the door.

They were clear out of earshot when Van took a seat on the stool. "I have to tell you something and you can't get upset. You can't tell Cheyenne, either." He said seriously.

"What the hell did you do?" Reba inquired sharply. "What are you gonna tell me?"

"I'll tell you, only if you promise…" He reminded utterly serious, his finger to his lips to express the urgency to still keep quiet.

What was he going to say? How could she promise? Because this was Van, and Van loved Cheyenne, and Van was her son, and Van was always there, and Van fathered her grandchildren… "I promise." She whispered, gulping the lump of fear down her throat.

"Cheyenne is pregnant."

It was silent and then Reba's brow furrowed. "What?"

"She's pregnant, Mrs. H." He repeated, clearing his throat.

"Van, that's wonderful!" She exclaimed.

But, he was all but excited. He looked down to his lap, biting his bottom lip while his handsome face twisted in pain. "Maybe not." He choked, wiping a rogue tear out of the corner of his eye. "You see, Chey-

"Why didn't she tell me?"

"I'm getting to that." He said annoyed.

"Okay." She took a step back. "Van? What else do you need to tell me."

"Cheyenne wants to keep it to ourselves for a little while." He sighed. "She thinks it's best to keep everyone in the dark while we wait." Van wiped his eye again quickly.

"Why does she want to wait?" Reba asked confusedly, frowning and leaning closer to her son-in-law. Cheyenne had never been great at keeping secrets, especially keeping them from Reba.

"She's twelve weeks, today." He muttered. "And I can't keep it a secret anymore." He didn't try to wipe his face; he just let the tears fall. "There was something on the ultrasound, but they can't do more of those test thingies until she's done with her first trimester and approaching her fourteenth week. We've known for a month, but she didn't want to tell you with everything going on…." He cried, covering his face with his giant paws.

Reba gulped. "Oh, Van." Her bottom lip quivered, but she took a deep breath. "Come here." She gestured, her arms outstretched and he came willingly, his head resting on her shoulder. "It's okay, honey." She rubbed his back, attempting to reassure him, attempting to console him.

"What if there's something wrong with my kid?" Van shuddered. "What are we going to do, then?"

"We'll do everything_. Everything_, Van." Reba repeated, squeezing him harder. "And I promise not to tell anyone. You've kept plenty of my secrets, I can return the favor." She held back her tears. "I'm gonna be a grandma again." She forced a grin. "That's cause for celebratin'!"

Van shook his head. "She's so afraid." He let go of his mother-in-law. "They said we could lose the baby, they said it and now Cheyenne won't talk to me! About _anything_. And I don't get home early enough to spend time with her, lately. And when I do, she's so exhausted I just make her go to bed. Elizabeth keeps asking _why mommy's so sad_… What do I say, Mrs. H?" He cringed. "I can't tell them the truth."

"You don't tell them, you just get her to think about something else. You tell her to play with Ryan, or give Cheyenne a hug." Reba sighed. "Van, you are a good father, and a good husband." She assured, grasping his arm and squeezing.

"Well, I don't feel that way." He smiled sadly. "I'm gonna get going. It's Ryan's bath time and it's my turn." He inhaled a great gulp of air.

"I love you, Van."

"Love you too, Mrs. H."

And when Van left and Brock reappeared, Reba took Marcus, holding him in her arms and rocking the baby back and forth. "Brock?" She inquired. "We're lucky."

"You don't have to tell _me _that." He smiled, running his fingers through her red hair and keeping her warm-blue gaze. "We have a new little boy, three other amazing kids, Van, Henry, Ryan, and Elizabeth… And the list goes on if we count BJ in…"

"We are truly blessed, you know that?" She replied.

"I'm very thankful for that." He grinned goofily. "Now what did Van want?" Brock asked, realizing the worry and reason in his wife's face.

"Oh, nothing. Cheyenne is just giving him some trouble, is all." She lied.

"Okay." He said sweetly, knowing she couldn't be telling the truth. He also knew she didn't like people prodding, even though she was the Queen prodder, sticking her nose where it didn't belong- but as she always said, family matters were _where _her _nose _belonged and he shouldn't keeping _bein' such a MO-ron._

Reba knew she was no spring chicken when she gave birth only months ago and that had eaten away at her, but now holding her son, she prayed. She prayed for another miracle like him, and prayed for Cheyenne to come to her.

Later that night, radiating melancholy, Marcus asleep and Brock dozing off on the sofa, she decided to take a walk and feel the breeze of the Texas night. Her sneakers padded gently across the pavement, and her crimson hair billowed in the light wind. She was wholly tempted to go see Cheyenne, but the night was approaching its later hours. It was not the younger blonde she found herself beckoning with a doorbell for. It was BJ.

She answered, robe disheveled and eyes heavy with sleep. "Oh, BJ. I'm sorry, I didn't meant to wake you!" Reba replied to the yawning woman with remorse.

"No! Please come in! I was just waiting up for my man. It's his late shift tonight, and I always seem to doze off!" Barbra Jean smiled warmly, welcoming her best friend into her home. "What is it ya need, girlie?" She wondered sweetly, wiping the tired from her eyes and resting her hands on her small waist, strangely.

"I got some news today, about Cheyenne. Lord knows why I'm coming to Queen Blabbermouth about it, but… I really can't tell Brock." Reba said sadly, sitting on the couch.

"Oh, Red, my lips are sealed. What is it that's wrong?" Barbra Jean slid beside her on the sofa, crossing her legs.

"Well… She's p-pregnant." She quivered.

BJ's eyebrows rose. "O-ohhh." She replied crossly. "It's funny how these things seems to happen…"

"What do you mean?" Reba asked. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I _was _trying to tell you earlier… Maybe I shouldn't…"

"You tell me right now, BJ or I swear—

"I'm pregnant too!" She hollered emphatically, jumping to her feet.

**Please review and tell me what you think!**


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